The Voice of Water

I am the pulse that feeds the soil,
the glistening breath, the soft recoil
of rain that lands on thirsty earth,
cradling seeds, bestowing birth.

I wind through rivers, cool and deep,
in quiet coves, in ocean sweep;
a gentle kiss, a steady hand,
that cradles earth and greens the land.

Yet do not think I'm only Peace,
I carve through rock, and never cease.
No mountain stands too tall for me,
No dam can halt my liberty.

I crash as waves, I rise as flood,
I swallow shores, I churn with mud.
I'll crest and surge, I'll tear apart
the strongest wall, the sturdiest heart.

In stillness or in storm, I flow,
through soft embrace, or undertow.
Life's lifeblood and its fall I am,
A boundless force, untamed I stand.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Sarapin, in the year 961 AF.